


you're the only place that feels like home

by etselec



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Concerts, M/M, Mute!Pete, Muteness, basically au where fob is the same except pete is mute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 15:40:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5133002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etselec/pseuds/etselec
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m certainly impressed,” Gerard admitted, sticking his hands into his jacket pockets, “what’s he like? Strong, silent type?”</p><p>“You could say that,” Mikey said quietly, “he’s mute.”</p><p>Gerard stopped in place. “He’s mute?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're the only place that feels like home

Mikey wasn’t straight.

Well, he wasn’t gay either but that’s not the point.

He’s been with multiple genders but didn’t have that much time or effort to figure out who he was; all he knew was that boys were hot and girls weren’t too bad themselves. Maybe research was for another day.

“Mikey,” called Gerard from the living room, rattling his thoughts, “come here, I have to ask you something.”

Mikey stared blankly at his laptop screen displaying a tumblr page on various sexualities before rolling off of his bed and slipping out of his bedroom. It was a little different now that Gerard had moved in with him--he had to share _everything_ now and he was rarely home alone. But it had it’s perks--like Gerard would buy groceries and sometimes do Mikey’s laundry.

“Yes, Gee?” Mikey leaned against the wall and watched Gerard wriggle around on his stomach to get comfortable. Gerard reached in front of him to type something on his laptop before looking up from the floor.

“You think you could accompany me to a concert?” Gerard asked, pressing his pointer finger on the “down” key. “Frank doesn’t wanna come with.”

Frank was Gerard’s best friend; Mikey suspects they’re something more, but Gerard protests otherwise.

“What concert?” Mikey asked, blinking at the spider crawling on the other wall. “I’ll go with you, but I want to know what band.”

“Fall Out Boy,” Gerard shrugged, shutting his laptop closed and scooting himself upright. “Ray started his job at the bar they’re playing at and I’ve heard about how good they were from work.”

“Work?” Mikey raised an eyebrow.

“Lindsey recommended them to me,” Gerard wrinkled his nose, “you know how she is, she knows every band out and around here.”

“I get it,” Mikey mumbled. Lindsey and Gerard dated for a few years, but they later realized they’d be better off friends and so far it’s been pretty okay. “So, Ray works at a bar now?”

“Yeah!” Gerard grinned at him, “pretty cool, he gets to observe all the bands and shit.”

Mikey nodded. “When’s the concert?”

“Tonight.”

“ _Tonight_?” Mikey’s eyes widened. “The fuck? You could’ve given me a warning or something.”

Gerard frowned. “Ray only texted me, like, fifteen minutes ago, okay? This isn’t my fault!”

Mikey blew air out of his nose. “Whatever, tell me when we’re leaving.” He zipped back into his room and shut the door closed.

It wasn’t even _45 fucking minutes_ later that Gerard opened his door, fully dressed and even eyeliner smudged around his eyes.

“Dude, I thought you said it was later tonight?” Mikey accused, scooching back on his bed.

“It’s 7:30, asshole,” Gerard pushed his bangs back before stomping out of Mikey’s room.

Mikey mumbled something about his brother being an idiot before putting on his jeans and t-shirt. He brushed his hair back and cleaned his glasses on his shirt. Gerard was already picking up his keys when Mikey left his room.

“I swear it was like noon 45 minutes ago,” explained Mikey. He watched Gerard roll his eyes before pushing him out of their apartment.

“You have no sense of time,” Gerard muttered once they were walking towards the bar.

“Whatever.”

“And _I’m_ known as the lazy Way,” Gerard pursed his lips together.

“No-fucking- _duh_ , you lived in our parents’ basement for like 3 years,” Mikey spat back, careful not to get hit by a car.

“That was after college,” Gerard protested, bumping shoulders with Mikey, “I was fucked up.”

Mikey sighed, knowing that he might have gone a little too far. He stayed quiet for a bit until the bar was in view. “Dude… you’re still sober, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then why are we going to a bar?”

“I just wanna listen to music and hang out with my brother and best friend, okay? Alcohol’s not the point and I can control myself,” Gerard said, his mouth in a tight line. “Now come on, the show starts soon.”

\--

The lighting was dark in the bar which automatically made Mikey feel better about coming with. Gerard  was already sitting at the bar and laughing at a story Ray was telling while Mikey was saving a spot for when the performance began.

Gerard crashed into him just as he was thinking about pushing his way to the front. Mikey decided not to since his brother was here now. He sighed.

“Hey!” Gerard said a little too happily, “Ray’s still as funny as ever, dude, I gotta tell you later about this thing he told me--oh my fucking God, you’re gonna laugh your ass off.”

Mikey huffed.

Up front, a blond guy in a trucker’s hat, tapped the mic a few times before nervously speaking, “hi, um, we’re Fall Out Boy,” he grinned, “hope everyone has a good time.”

Mikey didn’t know how it happened, but five minutes into the song, the crowd was way too into it and he and Gerard ended up right up to the stage and right at the blond guy’s feet. Mikey looked up to see him strumming his guitar singing songs with the word “Chicago” used at least five times.

Mikey noticed that the band members weren’t all ugly, necessarily. They were all actually pretty attractive and somehow kept a smile on their faces the entire set.

But the one guy who caught Mikey’s eye was the bass player.

He was wearing a hoodie with the hood pulled tight over his head and jumped on the stage from right to left. Mikey found it interesting that he would thrash around on stage but didn’t say anything even though the blond guy would speak to him and smile.

Mikey looked to Gerard who was nodding along to the beat of the drum. “They’re pretty good,” Gerard mouthed to him.

Mikey nodded and grinned.

When their set was over, the crowd scattered around the bar and outside and Gerard and Mikey were left at the counter with Ray.

“I liked them,” Gerard said wide-eyed, “dude, Ray, weren’t they good?”

“Yeah, I’m surprised I haven’t heard them before,” Ray continued to wipe down the counter, “what about you, Mikey.”

“The bass player was cute,” he ended up blurting out, “I mean… the band was good--I…”

Gerard burst out into laughter and pat Mikey on the back. “MikeyfuckingWay.”

“Stop it, Gerard,” Mikey grumbled, and rested his forehead on the counter, “I didn’t even mean to fucking say that out loud.”

Gerard lifted his head up and grinned. “Look, the singer and your bass player are selling merch over there, maybe you can get his number.”

Mikey whipped his head up, eyes twinkling in hope. “You think?”

“You’re really gonna…?” Gerard frowned, “I was joking.”

“Just because you said that, I’m gonna go over there,” Mikey put one foot in front of the other and somehow found himself staring right at the blond guy. “Hi.”

“Hi,” the blond guy smiled warmly, “you wanna buy something or…”

“I just wanted to say you guys were really good,” Mikey interrupted, the blond guy thanking him quickly, “and I’ll buy your CD.” He picked a twenty dollar bill out of his pocket.

“Shoot. It’s only $10 but I’ll check if Andy has any change,” he accepted Mikey’s money and pointed to backstage, “I’ll be right back,” and disappeared leaving only Mikey and the bass player.

“Hey, dude,” Mikey greeted, watching the bass player smile and push his side bangs back, “I’m Mikey and your guys’ set was fucking ace. You got a name or something?”

The bass player stared blankly at Mikey and whipped his head around to backstage where the singer had gone.

Mikey was confused. “So… what’s your name?” he repeated. The bass player turned bright red and looked ready to make a run for it.

Just as Mikey was about to open his mouth again, the singer came rushing back and apologized. “Oh, fuck, I’m sorry, this is Pete.”

Mikey frowned and wondered why Pete couldn’t speak for himself.

“I’m Patrick,” the singer continued, “and here’s your change.”

“You, like, shy or something?” Mikey said to Pete, “I mean, that’s fine if, you know, you are.”

“I bet he really appreciates it,” Patrick said for him, which earned a nudge in the side from Pete, “but Pete’s mute,” he addressed Pete, “I’m sorry, the dude had to find out some way.”

Mikey suddenly felt bad for putting Pete on the spot like that. “Oh! _Oh shit_ , I’m sorry, Pete.”

Pete looked from left to right and suddenly reached and grabbed and absent pen. He snatched a piece of paper that looked like the setlist and scribbled something down. He handed it to Mikey.

_‘it’s all good :)’_

“I’m glad, then,” Mikey smiled.

A cellphone on the table buzzed. Patrick reached out to grab it and groaned. “Ugh. I’ll be right back.” He sprinted backstage.

Pete tilted his head to the side and wrote something else down.

_‘i saw u during the set with someone. ur bf?’_

Mikey laughed, watching Pete turn red. “My brother.”

Pete seemed to giggle as he wrote something else down.

_‘i got a chance then?’_

Mikey read it and grinned. “Totally.”

Pete shrugged and hid a blush before grabbing ahold of Mikey’s hand. He wrote messily in pen on the top of Mikey’s hand and let go once he was done.

Mikey smiled down at his hand, reading the messy phone number written in blue ink. “I’ll text you.”

Pete grinned back and gave him a thumbs up. He took the setlist and scribbled one last thing down. Mikey watched him write for a good 90 seconds.

_‘we play another show here next week. u should come see us if u want or whatever i dunno.’_

“I’d love to, dude,” Mikey gave him a toothy grin, “do I get backstage access?”

Pete laughed to himself and flipped the setlist over to write.

_‘depends how big ur tits are’_

Mikey snorted. “You’d be surprised.”

Just as Mikey was about to ask Pete something else, his brother rudely interrupted. “Hey Loverboy, we’re leaving.”

Mikey frowned at Pete. “I’ll text you, I promise. And I’ll see you next week.”

Pete scratched the back of his neck and smiled as Mikey rushed back to Gerard.

The minute Mikey got to his brother, Gerard got a face full of the back of Mikey’s hand. “Dude…” Gerard started, squeezing his eyes shut, “what the hell?”

“Fucking look at this I’m a fucking player,” Mikey waved his hand up and down.

Gerard gripped Mikey’s wrist to stop him from moving. “Two-four-one--this is a phone number. He gave you his _phone number_?” He dropped Mikey’s hand.

“Hell yeah, proud of me, big bro?” Mikey bumped shoulders with Gerard as they stepped out into the night.

“I’m certainly impressed,” Gerard admitted, sticking his hands into his jacket pockets, “what’s he like? Strong, silent type?”

“You could say that,” Mikey said quietly, “he’s mute.”

Gerard stopped in place. “He’s mute?”

“Yeah,” Mikey shrugged, “he can’t talk, we communicated through writing.”

“That’s… interesting,” Gerard continued to walk.

“He’s really funny,” Mikey said to him, “I think he might like me or start to like me at some point.”

Gerard rolled his eyes. “Way to sound like a teenage girl.”

“Fuck off,” Mikey punched his brother in the arm.

Gerard bit his lip as they walked down the street. “You’d really date a mute guy?”

“He’s not that different,” Mikey mumbled, his voice wavering defensive, “he just can’t talk.”

Gerard shrugged, leaving it at that. His breath ghosted in front of his face as they reached their apartment building. “You have the keys?”

Mikey handed the set of keys to his brother and they both silently climbed up the stairs to their apartment. “He wants me to come see them play again. Pete, I mean,” Mikey mentioned once they were inside.

“You gonna go?”

“Of course,” Mikey stated as if it were obvious, “I liked their band.”

“You want me to come with?” Gerard tossed the keys on the counter and toed off his boots.

“Well, _duh_ , I don’t wanna go alone,” Mikey muttered playing with the loops of his jeans.

Gerard chuckled. “I’ll be there to protect you, bro.” He messed up Mikey’s hair before heading off into his bedroom and shutting the door with a loud slam.

Mikey winced and shuffled over to the refrigerator to grab a half full bottle of blue gatorade and resorting back into his own bedroom.

He flopped down on his bed and flipped on his television (it’s not like he or Gerard had a fancy 12 inch flat screen--none of that shit. Mikey’s television was probably from the 90s or even late 80s). Just as Mikey yanked his laptop onto his bed, he remembered the messy numbers written on the back of his hand,

He quickly added Pete’s number onto his phone before he forgot. He pulled up a new message and typed out: _‘hey this is mikey from the show today.’_

When the Gmail page loaded on his laptop, his phone buzzed.

 _‘u actually texted ?_ ’ , it read.

Mikey frowned and tapped out a response: _‘yes of course, why wouldnt i?’_

 _‘whenever i giv girls my number, they usually dont txt’_ , Pete replied.

Mikey smirked: _‘not a girl, dude.’_

 _‘shit. i mean… i knew u would b diffrnt’,_ the next message said.

 _‘u dated guys before?’_ Mikey asked, biting his lip. He pushed his laptop back and leaned against his pillows.

_‘yes… but i havnt... u kno… gone all the way,,,’_

Mikey snorted and ran a hand through his hair:  _‘same here.’_

_‘u still coming to our show nxt week?’_

_‘wouldnt miss it 4 the world’_

Pete didn’t reply after that. Mikey didn’t know what to think about that, but he felt like it had a been a pretty successful conversation in his book.

He chugged the rest of the gatorade and threw it into his waste basket. He then clicked his phone on one last time, reading that it was already midnight. Fuck, he had work tomorrow.

Mikey plugged his phone to charge and covered himself in blankets before drifting off to sleep.

\--

The whole week went by in a blur. In the blink of an eye, it was Friday night and Gerard wasn’t home from work yet.

Mikey, the loser that he was, worked at a record store, observing all the punk couples and dudebros walk in and out of the store. Gerard, on the other hand, had a decent job designing and writing comics which Mikey envied at how successful he was.

Mikey had left approximately seven messages on his phone and Gerard hadn’t replied to a single one.

It wasn’t until fucking _9:30PM_ that Gerard burst into the front door looking exhausted.

“Dude, what the hell?” Mikey was getting up from the couch and taking Gerard’s briefcase. He set it down next to the couch. “What happened?”

“Spent all day presenting my comics to my bosses,” Gerard breathed, “and I have to go do more work tomorrow night.”

“Woah, woah, woah, I thought you didn’t work on Saturdays?”

“My bosses want me to,” Gerard shook his head and scoured their cabinets for a glass for water, “which means I can’t go with you to your show.”

“Fuck, dude, I don’t wanna go alone,” Mikey’s eyes went wide, “I’m too awkward I need someone to be my wingman.”

Gerard scowled. “You were oh-so confident last time.”

“That’s because of the hype of the show, dude! Now that me and Pete have been talking, I have a tiny crush on him and I’ll make an idiot of myself.”

Gerard sighed. “Fine, _fine_. Ask Frank or something.”

“Oh shit, that’s a good idea,” Mikey gave a toothy grin and slipped his phone out of his pocket, “you’re gonna miss out on how bad of a flirter I am.”

“That’s too bad,” Gerard bit out, trying not to laugh.

Mikey rolled his eyes and walked into his bedroom. He dialed Frank up. “Frank?”

“What’s up, Mikeway?”

“Could you come with me to this concert tomorrow night? Gee can’t go,” Mikey played with the fabric of his shirt, “please, it’s really important.”

“I’ll take up your offer but,” Frank paused, “why do you want someone to go to this concert with you? Can’t you go by yourself?”

Mikey sighed and took a deep breath. “So, the bass player may or may not be really cute,” he squeezed his eyes shut, “and I kind of need a wingman?”

Frank barked out a laugh. “ _Dude,_ I’ll always be your wingman. Gerard would’ve sucked anyways.”

Mikey giggled. “I’m gonna have to agree with you on that one.”

“Yeah, well, later, Mikey.”

“Bye, Frank. And thank you,” Mikey hung up and walked back into the room only to find Gerard passed out on the couch.

Mikey rubbed his eyes and threw a blanket over him.

He trudged back into his room and watched reruns of Friends before finding his eyes heavy with sleep.

\--

Frank rang the doorbell at exactly 6:30PM.

Gerard was sitting on the couch, tieing his shoes and jumped a little. “Who’s that?”

“Your boyfriend,” Mikey joked from the bathroom, “can you get it? I’m still doing my hair.”

Gerard furrowed his eyebrows together and frowned. “I hate how I know who you’re talking about.” He leaped up from the couch and let Frank inside.

When Mikey found himself in the living room, the first thing he noticed was Frank’s flushed expression like he wasn’t expecting to see Gerard.

“You look _good,_ Gerard,” Frank teased.

“Fuck off, I have to go to work,” Gerard grumbled.

Mikey ignored this and addressed Frank.”Dude, you ready to go?”

“Hell yeah,” Frank stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets and grinned wide, “I hope I’m a better wingman then Gerard ever will be.”

“Hey! I’d be a _great_ wingman,” Gerard retorted, slapping Frank’s arm.

Frank shook his head. “Uh… no.”

Mikey groaned and grabbed Frank’s elbow. “We’re leaving.”

Frank resisted for a couple seconds, wanting to argue with Gerard, but Mikey had already told his brother goodbye and shut the door behind he and Frank.

Once they were on the street, Frank was talking Mikey’s ear off. “So… who’s this mystery bass player?”

“His name is Pete,” Mikey looked up at the grey sky, “he plays bass, he has black hair and he’s mute.”

Frank nodded before realizing. “He’s… mute?”

“Can’t talk,” Mikey mumbled, a blush spreading across his cheeks. He had _just_ gone through explaining this to Gerard and now he had to go through it with Frank, too. “He’s really funny, though. We text and...stuff.”

“Uh-huh,” Frank stared at his sneakers as they neared the bar, “and stuff?” He bumped shoulders with him.

“Shut up,” Mikey grew hot. He followed Frank into the bar.

There were only a few people up by the stage as they made it to the front.

“You at least like their music, right?” Frank asked, moving closer next to Mikey to make room for other people, “you’re not just here to see your bass player boyfriend?”

Mikey chose to ignore Frank’s “boyfriend” comment. “I like their band. I’ve been listening to their CD all week.”

“That’s good, because I’ve had relationships with people in bands that did not end well,” Frank laughed, scrubbing a hand through his hair.

After several minutes of Frank telling Mikey boyfriend and girlfriend stories (Mikey maybe stopped listening after the third boyfriend), the lights finally dimmed upstage.

Fall Out Boy burst out into a fast song. The crowd behind Frank and Mikey was going wild, pushing the two of them against the stage.

Mikey spotted Pete to the right and immediately made eye contact with him.

Pete smiled back and spun around with his bass.

Mikey felt Pete’s eyes on him as Frank pressed his gross mouth dangerously close to his ear. “THAT YOUR BASS BOYFRIEND?” he yelled right into Mikey’s eardrum.

Mikey pushed Frank’s face away from him and rubbed his ear. He nodded and scrubbed a hand over his hair.

One second, Frank was nodding his head along to the sound of Patrick’s voice. The next, he was thrashing around, grinning at people as he bashed his head against shoulders and chests.

He threw his arm around Mikey and leaned his head towards Mikey’s ear again. “Dude-- I really fucking like this band.”

Mikey couldn’t help but smile at how much fun his friend was having. He pushed Frank away from him a second time. His gaze drifted over to Pete who didn’t seem as enthusiastic as he had been during the beginning of the show.

Mikey tried desperately to meet eyes with Pete again and give him a smile, but anytime Pete even just turned his head in Mikey’s direction, he instantly whipped his head back to the other side.

Once the set was over, the crowd poured out and around the bar, leaving he and Frank by the counter.

“You gonna find him?” Frank asked, wiping a hand over his sweaty hair, “he was cute.”

Mikey turned scarlet. “Yes.”

“Well I’m going with,” Frank announced, slinging his arm around Mikey’s shoulders and pressing his gross, sweaty body against him.

“Dude, you fucking _reek,_ ” Mikey wrinkled his nose.

Frank only giggled as they walked down the hall to the back of the stage.

Mikey recognized a voice coming from a room and noticed Patrick laughing with one of the guitarists.

“Patrick?” Mikey said, shoving Frank off of him.

Patrick broke out into a grin. “Oh, hey Mikey! You made it.”

Mikey scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, you guys were good.”

Frank stepped forward sheepishly.

“Oh, this is Frank, he’s my friend,” Mikey said, scanning the room for Pete, “where’s Pete?”

Patrick chuckled but only for a second. “Should be by the merch table with Andy.”

Mikey gave him a thumbs up. “Thanks.”

“He’s been talking about you all week--well not _talking,_ but you know what I mean.”

Frank snorted, watching Mikey’s cheeks tinge pink. “Let’s go find your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Mikey snapped following Frank out the door.

Mikey met eyes with Pete at the merch table and walked over to him. “Hi, Pete.”

Pete grinned sheepishly and patted a mini whiteboard and marker on the table.

“Oh,” Mikey looked down, “that’s nice. Less waste of paper.”

Mikey looked over to Frank who was beaming at the two of them. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to bring him with. “Frank, why don’t you go check out the back rooms?”

“You sure, Mikes?”

“Yes,” Mikey said as calmly as possible.

Frank shrugged, “alright, dude. It might be a while-- I saw some pretty sweet guitars back there.” He stuck his hands in his jean pockets and sauntered off to the back.

Pete immediately picked up the whiteboard and started to write. He laid it on the table after a couple seconds for Mikey to read.

_‘who was that?’_

“He’s Frank he’s a… friend, if you will.”

This only made Pete frown as he wrote the next phrase messily.

_‘is he ur boyfriend?’_

Mikey stared at the phrase for a while. So was that why Pete seemed so distant during the set? Mikey felt kind of bad, but at the same time, fuck yeah, he made someone jealous.

All of the sudden, he was giggling.

Pete stared at him in confusion and double underlined the word _boyfriend_ on the whiteboard.

Mikey shook his head as he tried to stop himself from laughing. He finally sucked in a breath and settled on a huge grin. “No, dude--I’m single as _fuck_.”

Pete mouthed the word “oh” and turned pink.

Mikey reached out and put his hand on Pete’s shoulder.“Hey, don’t worry about it.”

Pete shrugged Mikey’s hand away and pulled his hoodie sleeve over his fist to erase the whiteboard. The marker squeaked across the board as Pete wrote a new message.

_‘i thought TWO people who werent actually ur boyfriends WERE ur boyfriends. TWICE, MIKEY’_

Mikey decided he shouldn’t have spent that much time staring at how Pete wrote his name, but he did anyways. “It’s no big deal.”

Pete wrinkled his nose and erased the board to write something.

_‘i hate u’_

Mikey scoffed. “Don’t believe it. You love me.”

Pete looked offended as he scribbled down the next sentence.

_‘you’d just wave off my super-hella-embarrassing mistake just like that?’_

“I’m very forgiving. Ask my brother,” Mikey shrugged, leaning against the merch table. He pushed his glasses up higher on his nose, watching Pete giggle. “Hey, listen,” he said, interrupting

Pete nodded.

“Do you maybe wanna come over? Frank’s gonna head back to his place and Gerard’s gonna be at work for a while,” Mikey looked down at his Converse for what felt like hours. It wasn’t until he felt the nudge of the whiteboard, that he looked up.

_‘i’d love to. i’ll tell patrick later’_

Mikey felt his heartbeat speed up to a mile a minute. “Awesome… that’s awesome. I’m gonna find Frank, okay?”

Pete gave a thumbs up.

Mikey found Frank several minutes later, crouching on the ground next to a guitar and Patrick talking from a couch with Joe’s arm slung across Patrick’s shoulders.

“Frank?” Mikey asked, watching Frank’s head whip around.

Mikey grabbed Frank’s sleeve. “We’re leaving, you fucking weirdo.” He dragged Frank out the door and yelled a goodbye back at Patrick and Joe.

Pete noticed Mikey and Frank and walked towards them. He pulled out his phone and typed something on the screen and showed it to them.

_‘i’ll be right back. i’m gonna tell patrick i’m leaving. also it was nice meeting you, frank’_

“Dude, you too. You guys got some pretty neat equipment,” Frank nodded approvingly.

Pete smiled and walked into the hallway.

Mikey put his hand on Frank’s shoulder once Pete was gone. “Hey, you think you could drive yourself home? I’m gonna have to kick you out.”

“Aw, dude, buzzkill. I wanted to steal some of Gee’s comics,” Frank teased.

Mikey rolled his eyes. “ _No,_ Pete’s gonna come over.”

Frank’s mouth upturned into a devilish grin. “ _Oh,_ I see.” He winked at him.

“It’s not like that,” Mikey smacked Frank’s arm, “you’re fucking disgusting.”

Frank snorted. “ _Sure,_ and tell me how it goes.” He started jogging out the door, “I’m gonna run back so I’ll be gone by the time you reach your apartment.”

Mikey waved and watched Frank disappear into the night.

Pete tapped him on the shoulder soon after and smiled.

“Ready to go?” Mikey asked, suddenly noticing what a nice shade of hazel Pete’s eyes were.

Pete nodded, way too close to Mikey.

Mikey bit his lip and looped his arm with Pete who looked startled. “Is this okay? Sorry.”

Pete quickly whipped his phone out and tapped something on it with his thumb. He shoved it in Mikey’s face.

_‘very okay’_

Mikey smirked and lead him out the door.

It was a pretty quiet walk from there to Mikey’s. Not like Mikey expected anything, it was actually really nice with Pete’s arm linked with his. It made Mikey feel warm and fuzzy.

They reached the apartment in a matter of minutes with Mikey  stealing glances every so often during the walk as if he were trying to find out what he was thinking.

“Well,” Mikey unlocked his door and let go of Pete’s arm, “this is my apartment. I share it with my brother so I guess it’s a decent size.” He shoved his left hand into his jean pocket and used his right to gesture to the couch. “You can sit down if you want.”

Pete flashed a grin and sat himself down on the couch. He pulled out his phone and typed something on it.

Seconds later, Mikey’s phone buzzed. He opened the message:

_‘i like it. it’s cute’_

“You’re cute,” Mikey blurted out without thinking, “I mean, uh… yeah.”

Pete didn’t show any sign of expression for a second but then he smiled and stood up from the couch and took ahold of Mikey’s shirt. He pressed his mouth quickly to his and took a step back.

Mikey’s eyes were wide and he was completely stiff. “I…wow.”

Pete mouthed _I’m sorry_ and ran a hand through his hair.

“You… Don’t be sorry,” Mikey finally got passed the being surprised part, “dude--”

But Pete had his phone out of his pocket and he was typing a mile a minute.

Mikey waited until his phone buzzed from his pocket.

_‘ur ok with that?’_

“Yes, I,” Mikey looked anywhere but at Pete, “I like you a lot, Pete. I know there’s some...barriers between us but I really like you.”

Pete started to type again and Mikey had his phone ready in his hand.

_‘so you wouldnt mind if i’_

It was a sentence fragment--maybe Pete hit “send” by accident. “I wouldn’t mind if you wh--”

Suddenly, Pete’s lips were on his again and Mikey decided he didn’t mind.

He _really_ didn’t mind.

**Author's Note:**

> im bored and petekey af so u can give me prompts on [marvelgoth.tumblr.com](http://marvelgoth.tumblr.com) or u can kik me at **celesteidk** if u wanna talk petekey or somethin


End file.
